Teach Me
by Aegypt
Summary: Harry/Molly one-shot. On the eve of her acceptance to the Council as a full wizard, Molly confronts Harry about a few things he never got around to teaching her.


**Author's note:** This is pretty much completely based on the events of _Proven Guilty_, and contains other, minor spoilers for the rest of the series, including _Turn Coat_. Mature readers only!

There are some things you just don't do. Letting an innocent man be executed for someone else's crimes, for example. Or standing by and doing nothing while the Fallen torture an omniscient but scared young girl.

Sleeping with your apprentice is another one of those things that Isn't Done. Especially when her father has saved your life on multiple occasions, and you've made a promise to her fiercely protective mother that you'll keep her safe. Sex with Molly was just the thing to get me thrown out of a window by Charity, if she ever caught wind of it. Not to mention that it was sort of frowned upon by the White Council. An apprentice's job is to learn magic, and the mentor's job is to teach it. _Magic_, not sex. And in our specific case, with the Doom of Damocles hanging over our heads, our teacher-student relationship would be stressful enough without throwing in some sexual tension, to boot.

Which is why, much to Molly's chagrin (and Bob's), on the first night of her apprenticeship, I had pounded into her head the fact that that sort of thing was not even a remote possibility. I'd been harsh about it, but it did the trick. Five years as my apprentice, and never another incident like the first, when she'd tried with all her awkward, innocent, teenage inexperience, to offer herself in thanks to the man who'd pulled her ass from the fires of certain doom. She'd wanted me to teach her things that had nothing to do with magic, and part of me (I'll let you guess which part) had been all for it.

But the other part of me had seen only a scared young girl, who'd been part of more frightening things in the preceding days than most women see in movies. She was scared, and in very real danger of getting herself executed by the Council, which is a heavy weight on a young wizard's shoulders.

I should know, after all.

So I'd told her, in no uncertain terms, what her apprenticeship would entail. It took some time for her to accept it, but gradually I managed to get through to her. She was powerful, with different areas of talent than my own, and I think I learned just as much from the apprenticeship as she did.

Five years, in which I'd taught her everything I could about magic, and a little bit about life: standing up for what you know is right, that sort of thing. And absolutely nothing about love, unless she learned from my rather pathetic example that while wizards can see plenty of violent combat action, we don't often get lucky with the other kind.

Five years is a long time, in terms of a young person growing up. Graduate high school at eighteen, go to college for a few years, spend a year or two in the "real" world, and a 23-year-old is vastly different from the person he or she was five years ago. Or, in Molly's case: Drop out of school, manifest your talents, nearly get yourself executed for violating the Laws of Magic, go back to school while learning magic from a tough but fair mentor... Oh yeah, and learn about the _real_ world, the dangerous, magical one, by getting involved in all sorts of life-threatening intrigues on behalf of your aforementioned mentor.

She had come a long way in five years. She still had that spark of mischief, and - yes, I'll admit it- she was still a looker. She was older, though, more secure. She didn't dress quite as... goth-y as she used to, had let some of her more visible piercings heal over, didn't contradict my every order anymore. She'd matured, magically and psychologically, more than I'd ever expected. I thought about that as I opened the door to my apartment and found her standing outside, on the blustery November night before we were to go to Edinburgh for her promotion to full wizard on the Council.

"Hi, grasshopper," I said, smiling. I indicated her bright scarlet hair, caught up in a clip behind her head that left a few strands free to blow about her face in the wind. "Like the new color. It's sure to give the Council the impression that you're a dignified, mature wizard instead of a rebellious warlock."

She rolled her eyes at my sarcasm. "I'm not changing who I am for the Council or anyone else," she said. "And you can't call me grasshopper anymore, Harry."

I was of the opinion that she _had_ changed who she was, or the Council certainly wouldn't be considering lifting the Doom from her shoulders. I kept that thought to myself, though. "I got one more night," I teased her, then frowned. "You lose your amulet again?"

She shook her head and held up the amulet we'd made to allow her safe passage through my wards. She stepped inside, pocketing the amulet. "I just thought it'd be polite to knock, for once. Make sure I wasn't disturbing you."

I shook my head as Mouse came over to greet her with much tail-wagging, and shoved the heavy steel door shut. "Of course not. Make yourself at home."

I returned to my seat on the couch and my copy of _Wizard McCoy's Guide to Rune-Carving _while she petted Mouse and hung up her coat. I'd guessed she wanted to go work in the lab, which she often did even when we had no scheduled lessons, so it surprised me when she sat down on the other end of the couch instead.

I looked up at her, and blinked. She was wearing a red t-shirt, the same color as her hair, and it made her eyes look more blue than usual. The v-neck of the shirt dipped low enough to show far more than Charity would ever approve of, and it was tight enough to conceal exactly none of her curves. Below it she wore a pair of dark blue jeans, clinging tightly to her legs, ripped and frayed in enough places that I was reasonably sure they exposed more than they covered.

Ye gods. It had been a long time since I'd seen her wear anything that revealing. I swallowed roughly, and hoped I hadn't been staring for too long.

She didn't seem to notice. "Harry," she said quietly. "Can I talk to you?"

"Of course," I said immediately, setting down the book and shifting on the couch so I could face her. "Nervous about tomorrow?"

"A little," she admitted, with a rueful smile. "Not as nervous as the last time I went before the Council."

"Well. You won't be blindfolded this time. That'll go a long way toward relieving anxiety." We shared a knowing look. The lit fire crackled in a moment of silence.

"That's... not what I want to talk about, though."

I had a sudden surge of conflicting emotions as a sneaking suspicion wormed into my thoughts. I leaned back against the arm of the couch and waited.

"Harry.... I want to spend the night here."

_Whew_, I thought. That wasn't anything new. She'd slept on the couch, or on a cot in the lab, many times over the years, when we were working on long, complex spells together, or in the middle of some crisis or another. Nothing like that was happening tonight, but I could understand that she wanted a little reassurance on the night before her return to the Council. She had the love and support of her family at home, of course, but they wouldn't have been able to answer last minute-questions or dispel worries about the Council rituals. "Sure," I said, starting to get to my feet. "I'll get you some blankets for the couch-"

"_With you_," she interrupted.

Well, damn. It doesn't get any more straightforward than that. Slowly, I eased back down onto the couch and looked at her for a long moment. "Molly...."

She leaned forward, granting me an even better view of what the shirt was doing a woefully bad job of hiding. "I'm not a child anymore, Harry."

"No," I murmured, closing my eyes and willing my stupid hormones to stand down. "You're just my student, and the daughter of one of my best friends, and I've known you since you _were_ a child. But there's nothing wrong with _that_."

"We _are_ both adults, Harry," she said, perfectly reasonably, with a smile in her voice.

I opened my eyes and looked at her again, very carefully keeping my gaze on her face. She was silent, waiting for me to speak. "Hell's bells, Molly," I said finally. "Why?"

Her smile widened, and I recognized a hint of the satisfaction she always showed when she knew the answer to a difficult question. "Because," she murmured, and suddenly she was sitting three feet closer to me, without me having noticed her moving. "Because even lesson number one wasn't enough to kill the attraction I've always had for you, though that pitcher of ice water sure convinced me to keep it hidden."

I opened my mouth to reply, but she kept going. "Because I'm about to go out on my own, be a responsible, adult wizard, and there are still some very adult things that I haven't experienced yet-"

I held up a hand, and she fell silent, a reflex born of long, strict training sessions. "Molly," I asked softly. "You're still a virgin?"

"You told me not to have sex, that very first night, and I haven't. Think, Harry: have you ever really seen me go out with anyone more than once or twice?"

"Must've escaped my notice," I muttered. Christ, this just kept getting better and better. If Bob ever learned _this_ little bit of information, he'd never let me hear the end of it.

Reluctantly, I opened my mouth again to let her down as gently as I could, but she placed a fingertip against my lips, startling me into silence. "I've waited a long time," she murmured. "And there are still some things you haven't taught me, Harry."

Sometime during the conversation, she had shifted closer, and was now sort of kneeling next to me, sitting back on her heels. The firelight sent interesting ribbons of golden light playing across her skin."But mostly because... I think there's something _I _can teach _you,_" she added softly.

I raised an eyebrow, but it was more of a reflex action, since the smart-ass region of my brain was suffering from severe blood deprivation. "Like what?" I asked, lamely.

The corner of her mouth quirked. "That, just maybe, you don't have to turn down a gift that's freely given." She leaned forward and kissed me.

It had been a long time since a woman had touched me like that, and my body seemed to have forgotten how good it felt. Plus, the sheer shock of the fact that it was _Molly_ made it a little hard to respond, for a moment. I sat unmoving, stupidly, for a few seconds, until instinct prodded me to kiss her back. It was simple and sweet, almost platonic, and it lasted until my sense of propriety finally returned from an extended vacation and made me pull back.

My apprentice met my eyes without fear; I'd soulgazed her long ago, and we didn't need to worry about another. I always made an effort to look her in the eyes when I remembered; it's a hard habit for me to break, but when her own Sight had begun to develop, she'd confessed she missed the eye contact with others. Now, though, it was incredibly intimate, and I could see the emotions swirling behind her deep blue eyes.

My body was screaming at me to give in and send my sense of propriety packing once more, but I had to give it one more try. "Grasshopper-"

She shook her head sharply. "Don't. Please, Harry..." She leaned in to kiss me again. Virgin or not, she knew how to kiss, and she did it well. As her mouth moved on mine, something that had lain inside me for years, a knot of pain wound tighter each day since Anastasia and I had parted ways, seemed to loosen and ease. The need to touch and be touched is a powerful drive, and, pathetic as it sounds, I hadn't kissed a woman since we'd ousted the traitor in the White Council. Molly had her hands carefully braced on the arm and back of the couch, and we weren't touching any more than our mouths, but the sheer sensation of being touched, physically appreciated again, sent a bolt of pleasure through my body.

When it ended, I closed my eyes and drew in a shaky breath. She waited patiently, eyes on mine when I opened them again. I brought my scarred left hand up to her face, gently brushing back a strand of scarlet hair. I'd done it on purpose, to see how she'd react to the ugliness of my hand, though I think a part of me would have died if she was repulsed by it.

I should have known better. She leaned into it like a cat, and the gentle touch became a caress. I don't feel too much with the fingers on that hand, still, but I got enough to know that her skin was silken-smooth, and very warm. _This is bad, Harry_, my conscience whispered. _This is very bad. She's your _student, _for God's sake. You've crossed a line, but there's still time to turn back._ I thought the words, heard them in my head, but they didn't quite register.

"Margaret Katherine Amanda Carpenter," I said softly. It was her turn to close her eyes briefly, shivering as I Named her. "Are you absolutely sure this is what you want?"

"Yes," she breathed. "Teach me, Harry." She kissed me once more. There was nothing simple or sweet about this kiss; I surrendered, and opened to her, letting her tongue slide into my mouth. She still had the tongue ring, and it was an intriguing, novel feeling, making me wonder how it would feel on other parts of me. My left hand slid around to pull her deeper into the kiss; my right hand found her hip and urged her closer until she was straddling me.

I had to bite back a groan as she pressed against my erection. Stars and stones, it had been far too long since I'd felt this good. She let out a little whimper of surprise, or arousal, at the contact, and the sound sent another jolt of desire through me. The last, struggling vestiges of my reluctance dissipated like smoke as passion took over. I turned to press quick, heated kisses down the side of her neck, making her squirm and gasp against me in an extremely pleasant fashion. "Harry...god..." she said, a breathless whisper, as my hand slid under her shirt, caressing her stomach.

A sudden thought struck me, though I don't know how it made it through the haze of lust that was fogging my brain. _Hell's bells_, I thought. There was very little about my rather primitive bachelor pad that would make it anyone's idea of a romantic place for their first time... but I had to believe that even my tiny twin-sized bed would be better than my ratty old couch. I managed to break my mouth away from the intoxicating taste of her skin long enough to say hoarsely, "Get up."

She did, looking confused. I stood as quickly as I could without risking a headrush-- most of my blood had already headed south, after all-- and planted another thorough kiss on her lips before seizing her hand and leading her to my bedroom.

Mister took one look at us and bounded up from my bed, trotting out of the room without a backward glance. I shut the door behind him and muttered a few words, and a dozen candles flared to life around the tiny room. I leaned back against the door and pulled Molly backwards into my arms, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. The brief walk across the living room, and the effort of will required to light the candles, had cleared my head a little, enough to remind myself of a few things.

First, that despite her claims to have "explored the bases" when she first became my student, she _was _still a virgin, and I had to be careful with her. It was bad enough, what we were about to do... How much worse would it be if I didn't live up to her expectations? Or if I hurt her? It was a sobering thought, one that poked at my ego uncomfortably. Molly had apparently spent the last _five years_ hoping to get me into bed, and our relationship was about to change enough already, without me letting her down, too.

Trust me to come up with rational thoughts like this _after_ I'd already committed myself.

But that prompted me to remind myself of the second thing: When I do something, I do it _well_. Or, at least thoroughly. You don't survive years in the overactive magical community of Chicago without being good at what you do.

Even if what you do is... not that smart. Hell, probably _especially_ if it's not that smart. I should know, I mean... look at what I was about to do now.

Molly shifted against my hips, bringing me easily back to the present. "Harry...?"

"Patience, padawan," I murmured, grinning against her ear. "We're taking it slow." I let my hand drift across her stomach, and pressed her back against me a little harder.

I couldn't see her face, but I knew the face she'd be making: nose wrinkled up, one eye squinted. "Slow?" she asked. "That's no fun-"

"You want me to teach you, don't you?" I asked, and my voice came out in a low growl. The sound made her tremble in my arms. "Lesson one: Pleasure only gets better, the longer you delay it."

She let out a breathless laugh. "I think I've more than learned that lesson already."

"Mmmffgh," I replied into her neck, and sank my teeth into her skin. She gasped, her hands clutching mine where they rested on her stomach. When I let her go, I left a purplish bite mark on the side of her neck and spun her around in my arms. She tugged me down for a kiss that quickly grew out of hand, clouding all my noble ideas about taking our time, and I pulled back. "Wait," I told her, and she did, watching me wordlessly, her eyes grown dark with desire in the dim light. I drew in a deep breath, let it out, and kissed her again, gently. I began to undress her, slowly, exposing her body bit by bit and covering it with kisses.

We ended up on my bed, her bare legs wrapped around me and my mouth on her breast. I teased the silver stud in her nipple with my teeth, making her gasp. She caught a handful of my shirt and tugged at it until I leaned back, leaving her nipple wet and glistening. "Not fair," she said breathlessly. "You're still dressed."

I stood up to rectify that, shucking my shirt over my head. She sat up on the bed, watching me with wide eyes, and I paused. She looked very young and a little nervous, and the sight sent a conflicting wave of emotions through me. I crouched before her, watching her face closely. "I have to ask you one more time," I said softly.

"I know," she whispered, with a little smile.

"We can stop now, if you want."

To my relief, some of her earlier mischief resurfaced in her expression, and she raised an eyebrow with a glance at the place where my jeans had recently grown several sizes too small. "Really?" she asked dryly, in a tone that said she doubted it.

"If you want," I repeated stubbornly. I would have to go take a three-hour ice shower, yeah, but I sure as hell wasn't going to force her if she'd changed her mind.

She shook her head and leaned forward to kiss me. One hand traced a circle around the pentacle amulet that hung against my chest, and then slid lower. I groaned into her mouth as she wrapped her fingers around my erection, stroking me through my jeans. "God, Molly...."

She smiled, her lips close enough to mine that I could still feel the heat of her body through the space between us. I had read somewhere that there's a sense of pride and power that teenage girls get when they realize they can cause that much desire in a man. Molly was no sixteen-year-old, but I saw a hint of that pride in her expression as she touched me, her confidence growing with the physical reassurance that I wanted this as much as she did.

I didn't let her do it for long, or I wouldn't have been good for much of anything else that night. I caught her hand and pulled it away, pressing a kiss to the pulse in her wrist before I let her go. I undressed as quickly as I could, with a minimum of undignified hopping on one foot, and left my clothes where they fell.

I sat down on the edge of the bed and shifted around, settling against the wall in a slouch, with my feet stretched out toward the edge of the mattress. "Come here," I growled, holding out a hand, and she took it. I drew her closer, farther than she planned to go, settling her so that she straddled my stomach rather than my hips. She looked at me in confusion.

I caught her face in both my hands and kissed her, roughly, drawing a moan from her throat. Another sudden thought struck me: this was _real_, more real than anything I'd done with a woman in years. Even the last time with Susan had been partly driven by the hunger of the vampire that lurked within her. Shiela had been nothing more than Lasciel's attempt to seduce me into taking up her coin. Even my fling with Captain Luccio hadn't been _true_, more driven by the tampering with her mind than any real feelings.

But this... this was _real_. It wasn't love, but it was something close: Molly and I knew each other, had soulgazed each other, had worked together nearly every day for five years. We were close, closer than I had realized. There was no vampire demon or Fallen angel or mental interference behind what we were doing... Just the natural attraction between two people who have grown as close as they possibly could without falling into bed long ago. However misguided and irresponsible it might have been on my part, taking my apprentice to bed, it felt... Right. Natural.

_Real_.

When I let her go, her lips were a little swollen, and she was breathing raggedly. "Go as slowly as you have to," I told her, lifting her hips and pushing her back a little. "Just don't take too long."

She huffed out a soft breath of laughter. I took myself in one hand, helping her, and on the third try the very tip of my erection pressed against the silken heat of her flesh.

God... There was no magic in the way I waited, gritting my teeth, while she moved agonizingly slowly... but for all the willpower required, there might as well have been. I clenched fistfuls of the blanket and watched, my breath rasping in my throat, as Molly bit her lip and eased herself down onto me. She was tight, so tight, it didn't seem possible that we could keep going. Halfway there, she made a whimpering sound, squeezing her eyes shut. A tear slipped from beneath her lids. "It hurts," she breathed, barely audibly.

I reached up and caught the tear on my thumb, stroked her temple. "You're doing great, grasshopper," I murmured out of rote habit. I immediately wanted to kick myself. How creepy was it that I was still calling her by her apprentice nicknames while we were in bed together?

Fortunately, she didn't seem to notice. She drew in a deep breath and let it out in a sharp cry as she rocked forward and down, a movement that drove the rest of me completely inside her.

"Jesus," I gasped. It was all I could do not to flip both of us over and take her, hard, finish what we'd started eons ago. At least, that's what it felt like, by now. Instead, I gripped her hips and held her still. "You okay?"

She nodded wordlessly and managed a wavery smile, though her eyes still glistened with tears of pain. Dammit, I hate seeing a woman cry.

Especially during sex. Ouch.

I forgot my own urgency for a moment, as my protective instincts kicked in with the overwhelming need to make everything better. _You're still the teacher, Harry_, a small voice whispered. _Show her what happens now._

"Here," I rasped out, my fingers tightening on her hips. "Move, Molly... yes..." I helped her rock back and forth, until we found a rhythm together.

"God, Harry," she whimpered as we moved. She leaned forward to kiss my neck, until I brought a hand up to cup one of her breasts; she let out a breathy moan in my ear, and I shuddered with arousal. I sunk my other hand into her scarlet hair and pulled her back enough that we could rest our foreheads together. Her eyes were very big and very blue, reflecting the candleflames like little fires of desire.

It couldn't have been more than a few minutes before she came to a trembling climax, bracing her hands on my chest and arching back with a cry. I drew a hissing breath through clenched teeth as her muscles tightened around me. She sagged against me when it was finished, still shuddering slightly. Unable to wait any longer, I wrapped my arms around her and turned us, bearing her down onto the mattress.

I braced myself on my hands and gazed down at her, for just an instant, before I lost the last traces of rational thought. I lowered myself to kiss her throat, fiercely, leaving a second mark on her flesh, and slid my arms under her shoulders. Molly wrapped her legs around my waist, locking her ankles behind my back, and I let out a groan. With one hand, I cradled the back of her head, holding her to my chest as I rocked my hips against her, hard and slow. She bit into my shoulder, until I had her crying out in pleasure, muffled gasps against my skin with every thrust. I didn't last much longer, but I brought her again before I finished. She cried out a few ragged pleas that melted into a wordless moan, trembling in my arms. I shuddered, gasping. "Molly, ah, God..." The room seemed to fade into darkness for a moment, but I think that was simply my brain overdosing on pleasure.

When I came to, I still lay on top of her, and sweat was drying on my back, making me shiver. "Molly! Sorry," I grimaced, easing off of her. She wasn't tiny, but I wasn't exactly a lightweight, either.

She smiled drowsily. "S'okay," she murmured. She opened her eyes and gazed up at me, and I hesitated.

"You alright, grasshopper?"

Her smile widened. "Yes, sir."

I flinched. Calling me 'sir', after what we had done... that was just _wrong_. "Hell's bells, don't do that."

"Then don't call me grasshopper," she shot back, raising an eyebrow.

"Point taken," I muttered. I reached up to brush a few errant strands of scarlet from her face. "You sure you're alright?"

She sobered, nodding. "Is there a reason I shouldn't be?"

"No!" I said. "I mean, uh... Well. You don't, ah..."

She took pity on me and reached up to pull me down for a kiss, shutting me up. "No, I don't regret it," she whispered against my lips. "Do you?"

That nervous young girl was back, lurking just behind the haze of pleasure in her eyes. She deserved an honest answer, and I hesitated, leaning on one elbow, waiting for the waves of guilt to come crashing down on me.

Nothing happened. That was odd. "No," I said, bemused. Idly, I reached out a fingertip to trace a circle around her nipple, and she shivered.

"You look surprised," she observed.

I smiled down at her. "Well. It isn't every day that I can break all the unwritten codes of student-teacher conduct and make love to my young apprentice without feeling even a twinge of guilt, afterward."

Molly laughed softly. "You've learned well, grasshopper," she said, doing a fair approximation of my own voice.

_A gift freely given_, I thought, remembering the lesson she'd promised to teach me. "Maybe so," I murmured, and pressed my lips to her forehead. "Thank you."

My pentacle amulet dropped forward, dangling from its chain to rest its edge on her collarbone. She took it in her fingers, and I sent a bit of will into it. She smiled in the faint glow it emitted. "What about you?" I asked softly, letting a bit of teasing into my voice. "Have I taught you enough to send you out into the adult world, now?"

"Definitely," she said, pressing my amulet back against my chest. "Though I wouldn't turn down a few remedial lessons, now and then."

I chuckled and pulled a blanket over us, drawing her into my arms. She snuggled up against my chest, tucking her head under my chin. I stroked her hair, and listened to her breath ease into a slow, even rhythm.

Just before sleep took over, I thought of something. "Molly?"

"Mmm?"

"Do your parents know you're here?"

"Yeah," she said sleepily.

Hell's bells. I rubbed wearily at the bridge of my nose and groaned.

Charity was going to _kill_ me...


End file.
